


21st Century Breakdown

by EpiKatt



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Episode: s02e01 Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Hurt No Comfort, John-centric, M/M, Outer Space, Panic Attacks, Rewrite, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Unrequited Love, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25218964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpiKatt/pseuds/EpiKatt
Summary: John's soulmate was Jack, but Jack's wasn't John.KKBB rewrite.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness/John Hart
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	21st Century Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two days, the 5k was written on the second one. It is 4 am as I upload this and I am exhausted. I hope you like it, I worked fairly hard on it.
> 
> Title from Green Day.

John (when he wasn’t quite John, yet,) found out almost immediately. He was twenty three and (not quite Jack) was twenty five. They were assigned as partners and when they met for the first time in the debriefing room, something in John’s mind clicked into place. At the time, he must have been frozen too long because his commanding officer snapped at him to sit down, which John only did without a sarcastic reply because he was much too dazed to do anything  _ but  _ listen.

It was halfway through one of the most boring meetings of his life when he realized what just happened. He stole a sharp glance toward the man beside him, irked by the fact that he seemed disinterested and bored and not at all seeming like he’d just found his soulmate, because  _ surely  _ if he’d felt it, he’d be looking at John like John was looking at him. 

He continued to cautiously observe the man, Jack, as he’d later be known as, so for the sake of ease, we’ll be using that. Nearing the end of the briefing, Jack still seemed disinterested and nearly asleep, leaning heavily on one hand and sliding down in his seat, and the CO was too focused on his little script on the mission they were being given to notice the lack of attention from them both. John knew he’d get a cliff’s notes version later, which he likely would skim through, so he didn’t much care about anything but Jack as it were.

When Jack glanced at John with half-lidded eyes and lifted a questioning eyebrow once he caught John’s gaze, a pit fell in his stomach. He knew what it was. He swallowed nervously and offered a flirtatious smile, pretending to not understand. But he did.

Jack was his soulmate, but John wasn’t his.

  
  
  


Over the next few weeks, he researched how it could be possible, why  _ him? _ How could he think this was even a possibility? Back in school, (before his parents died and he stopped going, of course,) they always glazed over the subject of a nonreciprocal soulmate, as the odds of it were lower than not having one. From what John could recall of ancient lessons, they’d just said that the one with the bond would feel the clicking of something in your mind settling, but the vague empathic bond would never form and the other would never feel the same, would have their own soulmate elsewhere. 

John began reading reports of others who it occurred to, and those he researched them. It was with more and more anxiety did he see that most with bonds like him, killed themselves not long after finding out, especially those who watched their own soulmate find theirs. But John never considered himself a quitter, at least not where it counted for his own selfish means, so he resolved himself to staying alive, out of spite and if he were being a little honest, as motivation to those in the future who went through the same thing. He decided when he’d write the article many years in the future, he’d do it under a new pseudonym (he knew by then he’d most likely have many) and post it in innocuous places. He could only hope that he actually stayed alive long enough for it to matter, as a Time Agent’s lifespan wasn’t known to be as long as most others.

John also knew he could never tell Jack, even when they started shagging each other on every available surface. No matter how selfish he was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep Jack forever, knew telling him wouldn’t make him want to stay, knew telling him would scare him off. So he kept quiet. For years. For years and years, even when he almost died those three or four times, or when Jack almost died those six or seven times. Not when they were being hunted down by rogue Time Agents, not when they were on a planet full of evil theme park mascots and citizens who didn’t know what sex was, nor when they were trapped in the time loop and they became disgustingly domestic, to the point that when they escaped, Jack was so embarrassed for himself he requested a new partner, leaving John in his wake, broken and angry.

Even knowing it would happen didn’t prepare him for when it happened. He spent the next several years in an anger fuelled haze, full of self loathing and hatred for Jack, but mostly he was angry at whatever self righteous  _ bastards  _ placed him in this position in the first place. Slowly, his resentment toward everything grew to a point where he was drinking himself unconscious while getting high off anything he could find and shagging himself through system after system to numb the pain.

He was in rehab, alcohol, for once, when he remembered something from the research he did so many years ago when he first found out about Jack. Even a one sided bond could feel the death of their partner. He wasn’t sure why that popped into his head until a few nights later, (still in damned rehab, hadn’t managed to shag his way out, yet,) when there was a sharp jerk in his mind and his legs gave out under him. Something in his mind snapped, the only piece holding it together was gone, (the bond was the final straw.) He couldn’t remember the next week but he knew it was spent in a psychotic rage, threatening murder to anyone nearby and letting himself deteriorate before suddenly the bond clicked back in place, leaving him silent mid-rave at the latest worker who dared approach him. John had no idea what had happened, because  _ surely _ Jack hadn’t died. The bond must have just messed up or something, since they hadn’t seen each other in ages…

It wasn’t until they’d sent him to murder rehab, (a dreadful, awful place where the food was worse than prison, and take his word for it he would know,) that he felt a little niggling in the back of his mind. He nearly jumped out of the seat in his room, where he’d been watching dreary television when he felt the vaguest,  _ vaguest  _ feeling of an emotion other than his own in the back of his mind. He’d been released by the time the disappointment set in. Jack still wasn’t his soulmate, but some sort of fluke rendered it to where he could feel the barest edge of one of Jack’s strongest emotions. 

Over the next year or so, he slowly started to learn what they meant. Happiness was when he was getting a good shag, or the equivalent of, which always made something in his (stupid, awful) heart tear a little more. Terror or pain, usually together, were when he was being tortured, which John had no idea where he was to be tortured. One thing he couldn’t explain were the blackouts he’d have on occasion. He’d rather quickly ruled death out as the cause, because that certainly made no sense. The only half-likely theory he could come up with was that the bond flared and waned through distance and time, but he had no solid proof and no way of telling, but it was what he stuck with. 

When the blackouts happened in public, he’d laugh it off with a coy smirk and tell everyone he was just coming off a high a little rough. He never acknowledged the feeling of unease in his stomach when it happened, pretended it wasn’t there. 

He may not quit, but he knew he was a coward.

  
  
  


One day when he went to one of the various locations the Time Agency was located, he was in a bit of shock to find the place empty. He went to a terminal and looked up active members, finding only seven with their VM’s still on. He spent the next week or so in a bit of a haze of disbelief. The Time Agency…  _ gone.  _

He got so drunk that night that he woke up on the bathroom floor with the worst headache of his life and vomit in the toilet.

  
  
  


Finding out about the Arcadian diamond was an honest accident. He’d been edgy lately, as all he’d felt from the tenuous bond he had with Jack was either pure and utter pain, or tired resignation, which had to worry John because for him to feel it, Jack had to be near suicide bad. 

The woman he’d been with, not caring enough about her to remember her name, he’d killed her solely for the fact she’d brought up his soulmate. They’d been together a few days by that point, and she always seemed to get under his skin, so that was his breaking point. This time, his blackout was from rage, not Jack, When he became able to see what he’d done, he was sitting in the corner of her bedroom, her cooling corpse on the bed, neck snapped, obvious by the awkward angle of her head.

He got up on shaky legs, refusing to acknowledge them either, and searched around her room and office down the hall for anything worth looting. When he saw mention of the Arcadian diamond, it was like a blanket fell over his darker thoughts. Still there, but meant to be dealt with. Later. When he was rich for the next two years off of the beautiful profit the diamond would make.

When he landed on Earth, somewhere in America, he was guessing, he was surprised to find Jack’s VM nearby. His eyebrows raised up and he quickly went to pinpoint the signal, finding it across the pond and in, of all places,  _ Wales.  _ Showing up near in the dark on top of a rooftop, he grinned at the sign of a mugging in process.

“Get off! I didn't do it. Please, leave me alone!” A desperate voice cried, pinned down with his attacker over him with a knife.

John just grinned some more and came closer, pace steady and cocky. In his element.

The pinned man clearly saw John coming near, as he yelled out; “Help me!”

“Come any closer and I’ll snap his neck,” the mugger threatened, voice lowered in false bravado. 

“Fine,” he said back, calmly.

“What?” the mugger said, confusion clear in his voice.

“Which artery do you normally sever?” John said, completely ignoring the other man.

“I’m not bluffing!” the mugger insisted, blatantly giving off the fact that he was bluffing.

“Oh, well, see, now you’ve given yourself away. Only someone who’s bluffing ever says they’re not,” John said, stepping forward and dragging the mugger away by his throat, holding him over the side of the building casually.

“Oh God. Shit! Please! Please stop!” the ex-mugger cried, struggling against John to get away from the ledge.

John pretended to consider before shaking his head, face slightly malicious. “Well. No.” He dropped the ex-mugger and heard a quiet crunch and nodded in satisfaction, spinning on his heel and going toward the in shock victim.

“He’s dead,” the man said in disbelief, visibly shaking.

John wasted no time and grabbed the man by both shoulders tightly, holding him closer just for extra effect.

“Please..” God he sounded pitiful. John had to let him go, he’d already left a message.

“I was never here,” he said lowly before letting go. “Go.”

John watched him run off before thinking out loud; “I’m thirsty now.”

  
  
  


After being personally offended by receiving Jack’s answering machine, (after clearing the bar with more than a little evil glee,) he was currently taking shot after shot, waiting impatiently for the man of the hour to arrive.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long to hear Jack’s trademark walk in a different set of shoes. He stood up from the bar, feeling a little lightheaded from all the shots he just downed, but only a little. He eyed Jack, trying to find any differences and was surprised to find many. The way he held himself was still cocky, but less outrageous with it, shoulders arched just slightly down, back not quite as straight. And his eyes were much older than when he last saw him. John decided to attribute this to the torture he suspected him of enduring lately.

It was really without realizing it were he and Jack so close, but it was of his own volition to initiate the kiss, just a taste to remember, to hope. It was brutal, hard, punishing and over all too fast, Jack pulling away to say something, and before John knew it he’d thrown the first punch too and they were all over the bar, smashing anything they came in contact with.

It was a few minutes later, after the adrenaline faded and the aches began to present themself when he finally pulled away from Jack and drew his gun, only mildly surprised to see Jack do the same to him.

“You’re putting on weight,” John stated, deciding he had a right to be an arse, all things considered.

“You’re losing your hair,” Jack retorted.

“What are you wearing?” John asked, suddenly eager to steer them away from the aggressive snipes.

“Captain Jack Harkness, note the stripes,” Jack (for real this time) said, sounding far too smug for John’s liking.  _ Ego’s the same. _

“Captain John Hart, note the sarcasm,” John (yes, him too) replied, just as sarcastic as his words entailed.

“Hey, I worked my way up through the ranks,” Jack defended.  _ Oh boy. _

“I bet the ranks were very grateful,” John said with a snort, suddenly dropping his arm holding the gun. “I need a drink,” he complained, heading over to the bar once more.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jack said, sounding nearly as relieved as John felt that he’d accepted his little offer.

John plopped himself down on one of the stools and picked up the nearest bottle, downing it with a few desperate gulps before setting it aside. He was entitled when his soulmate who would never love him was right next to him.

He glanced over and fought a grin when he saw Jack eyeing him.

“So.. How was rehab?” Jack asked, eyebrow raised incredulously. 

“Rehab _ s.  _ Plural,” he replied, unsurprised to know Jack knew of at least one of his stints in rehab.

“Drinks, drugs, sex and…?”

“Murder,” John said in a conspirational tone. 

Jack let out a bark of laughter. “You went to murder rehab?” he asked in disbelief.

“I know, ridiculous. The odd kill, who does it hurt?”

“You clean now?”

“Yeah, kicked everything. Living like a priest.” He said that one just on the fact of how absurdly incorrect it was. It was horribly funny in his head but apparently not as much so to Jack.

There was a slight pause before Jack picked the conversation up once more. “So, how’s the Time Agency?”

John winced a little. He’d had friends that were now off the radar who he’d likely never see again. “You didn’t hear? It’s shut down.”

“You’re kidding me.” John couldn’t help but relish in the blatant shock in Jack’s voice. Where there was something the other man didn’t know.

“No. There’s only seven of us left on the grid now,” he muttered, going after another drink.

“Wow.”

John swallowed and dredged up the courage to say something actually true. “It’s good to see you. Was never the same without you,” he said quietly.

Jack’s face turned hard and John’s stomach lurched, already hearing the rejection before it came out.

“You need to go. I don’t want you on my territory,” he nearly growled.

Those words brought up an old worry he’d nearly forgotten about. Had Jack found his soulmate? Something inside him threatened to die at the thought.

“What? Time was, you couldn’t get enough of me on your territory,” he snapped defensively.

Suddenly he heard footsteps on either side of the room, his rather acute hearing just picking up their shifting. He raised his guns back up and shot the windows out on both sides.

“Alright, everybody out,” he growled. And that’s when the night truly started.

“Everything all right?” A woman called, carefully stepping inside, along with everyone else it seemed.

“It’s okay, okay, okay,” Jack insisted, making John believe it was not ‘okay’.

“Oh you’ve got a  _ team! _ ” John crowed, grinning and clapping his hands together once. “How sweet! Oh, pretty little friends. No blonde, though. You need a blonde.”

“God, he’s worse than Jack,” a rodent-looking man said.

A thought suddenly occurred to John and he couldn’t help but voice it. “Oh! Oh! Do you have a team name? I love team names, go on!” he insisted, still grinning insouciantly. 

“Torchwood,” Jack said shortly, clearly annoyed.

John was disappointed. That was rather lame. “Oh. Not Excalibur? Blizzard? Bikini Cops?” When he got no reaction he huffed and continued. “No? Oh dear.”

Jack just glared at him while he glared back. Jack eventually sighed gave. “Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Toshiko sato, Owen Harper meet-” he was cut off by John before he could finish.

“Captain John Hart,” he said proudly, chest puffing up just slightly. 

“We go back,” Jack said, face twisting as if the words hurt him. It made something in John seeth. 

“Excuse me, we more than go back. We were partners,” he boasted, lips turning up in a smirk.

“In what way?” The cute one asked.

“In every way. And then some,” John said, adding the flirty tone just to get under Jack’s skin.

“It was two weeks,” Jack snorted. John knew it was a lie no matter what context, and had no trouble calling him on it.

“Except that two weeks was trapped in a time loop, so we were together five years and more. Was like having a wife,” he mused, shifting on his feet and rubbing his chin.

“You were the wife,” Jack insisted, finally smiling a little.

“ _ You  _ were the wife,” John retorted.

“No,  _ you  _ were the wife.”

Ah, John had missed this. “Oh but I was a good wife,” he said, giving in and a little giddy from the familiar banter.

“I bet you were,” said the quiet one, Toshiko, he thought.

“What?” Owen said, startled and disbelieving.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed, he’s cute,” she said, shrugging and smiling at him slightly. He gave her a half-lidded smile in return, tilting his head slightly.

“They’re just shy,” John stated.

“What are you doing here?” Jack finally asked, patience seeming to give out.

“Was wondering when we’d get to that,” John muttered, opening his VM to fiddle with the setup plans he had made.

“That’s the same as yours,” Toshiko said, voice tinged with curiosity.

“A little smaller,” Jack sniffed, sounding a little offended which only made John grin again.

“But lasts much longer,” he purred, glancing at Jack’s peeved face in satisfaction. “Get two Time Agent’s in the room together, s’always about the size of the wrist strap.”

“Yes, sorry. What’s a Time Agent?” Owen asked, sounding distinctly annoyed.

“What, he’s never told you about his past?” John said, eyebrows raised while focusing his gaze on a nervous looking Jack.

“No, he hasn’t,” said Gwen darkly.

John slowly drug his gaze off of Jack and shrugged. “Anyway.”

He pressed a button and suddenly a hologram of a canister came above his VM. 

Ah. His favorite part of the con, well, besides getting away with it. Laying out his lies.

  
  


It was a while later before Jack led him in front of a water sculpture, and his lip curled in distaste.

“You live in a sculpture. Could you be any more pretentious?”   
  


“Get on,” Jack snapped.

“So, your team not allowed in this way?”

“This is the entrance for tourists,” Jack muttered, distracted as they descended.

“I remember the last time you said that,” John mused before they were far enough down to see a cavernous room. He had to give it up to that little perception filter.

“Where the hell are we?” he snorted.

The slab soon ground to a stop and he went to step off, eager to get his hands on everything interesting but was stopped by Jack’s arm across his chest. He was loath to admit he missed his touch.

“It’s roomy, I’ll give you that,” he observed. “Your taste in interior design hasn’t gotten any better, though. What’s this, sewer chic?”

“Weapons,” Jack said shortly, leaving no room for arguing on John’s side.

John let out a dramatic sigh before giving his guns and sword to Jack, who then passed them to the Eye candy holding the tray in front of them.

“And the rest,” Jack said, looking unimpressed.

“Oh, you know me, I’m a two weapon man,” John said, clearly lying. Even he knew it was weak.

Gwen walked up with a scanner and began reading; “One pistol strapped to each leg,laser knife beneath left elbow, seventeen small explosives in the lining of his coat,” she began as John reluctantly pulled them off, finishing with a simple,

“Slipped my mind.”

  
  
  


John easily got his VM back when no one was looking. It really wasn’t hard.

  
  
  


Soon, the next part of his plan was in action and they were all in the little conference room, one leg on the table and the other spread beside him.

“Seven hours ago, we logged a minor surge in Rift energy across three locations,” Toshiko read out.

“Six of us, three locations, that’s simple. Two people per canister,” John broke in before Jack, already knowing it’d rattle him.

And he was right. “Excuse me, I give the orders.”

“Well, give some, big boy,” John retorted, grinning cockily at him.

“John’s right. Sorry. Er, do you do prefer John or Captain?” Gwen asked hesitantly, surprising John a little.

“With eyes like yours, you can call me Vera, I won’t complain,” John purred. Jack was the only one who knew that the name had been assigned to him when he’d been captured by a government he was trying to disband, (for the Agency, not for himself, you pricks,) and knew it just annoyed Jack a little more.

“Tosh and Owen, take the north, Ianto and Jack go west. Me an’ Vera’ll take the docks,” Gwen instructed. John was amused by the power imbalance. Something had happened here that disrupted their little order.

“Excuse me, not to repeat myself,” Jack interjected, irritated.

“You got a problem with this, Jack?” Gwen demanded, standing taller. John swallowed a laugh and instead coughed into the collar of his coat.

“Not at all,” Jack said, resigned.

“Now, given the canisters are radioactive, don’t open them, eh?” John said, raising an eyebrow. He suddenly realized how often he did that and frowned.

“Let’s go, guys,” Gwen called, walking toward the door before Jack called her back in.

“Gwen, I need a word.”

“Oh, can I watch this bit?” John said, excited. “He’s gonna give you all the do’s and don’ts. I love it.”

“She’ll be with you in a second,” Jack said, ignoring John’s previous statement.

John just sighed and rolled his eyes sauntering out of the room to wait impatiently in the hallway. He was impatient to get his diamond.

“Has he gotten to the no kissing rule yet? He only invented that because he wants me all to himself!” he called, consciously leaving in the present tense to irk him.

  
  
  


Gwen drove them to the docks not long after, where the two of them spent a little while poking around, peering into various containers. John looked in one and smiled, an idea on how to get rid of Gwen forming. 

After a little while, he stopped and looked at her, annoyed. “Nothing. Are you sure this is the right spot?”

“Yeah, but containers are shifted all the time,” she said, though she didn't sound very confident.

“This could take days,” he complained, peering inside another one.

“So, that woman, the one with the canisters. How did you get to know her again?” Gwen asked conversationally, tone holding that polite interest while still seeming distracted as she continued to search. 

John usually found it rather easy to lie, but saying he was in love with anyone other than Jack (he loathed himself for it but he couldn’t help it) rubbed him the wrongest way. So the emotion in his voice wasn’t from love lost. Or, well, it was, just not the woman’s.

“We were in love,” he said quietly. He couldn’t help but look back at his and Jack’s relationship with those words. Couldn’t help but wonder if Jack ever loved him back, if just for a minute, a second.

“Oh.” said Gwen, awkwardly. Good, she should be.

“Yeah,” he said shortly.

“I’m sorry. Did they catch the person who shot her?”

John grimaced. He didn’t shoot her, but the question still made him feel just a little guilty. She really was guilty in all this. Still, for an Arcadian diamond, he would have done it again.

“Do we have to talk about this?” he snapped, pausing to glare at her.

“No, no, of course not.” She quickly backtracked.

Suddenly her phone started ringing and John rolled his eyes, turning away to look in some more. “Don’t mind me,” he called over his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” she said lowly.

John sighed and tuned out of her conversation for a moment before stalking up behind her to moan into the phone. “Hey, baby, you’re fantastic too. Yeah, just there!”

He heard a tinny  _ “Who’s that?”  _ and her annoyed answer before he wandered off again, this time with intent, as he’d found the container they were looking for a moment earlier.

Ducking around a corner, he pulled out the small tube and applied the paralysing lip gloss with a few swipes before pocketing it again. As he walked back, he heard a progressively panicked; “John? John? John. John!” before he popped up behind her.

“Worry you’d lost me?” he said casually, smirking when she jumped and whipped around, glaring at him accusingly. “Woah, little bit jumpy there,” he mused.

“Keep in front of me, okay?” she muttered, waving in front of her pointedly.

“God, you’re so untrusting,” he huffed, doing as told. “But with your boss, it’s probably wise.”

‘Yeah, well, I trust him just fine, thank you,” she retorted, pretty little nose sticking in the air.

‘Once a conman, always a conman,” he singsonged, raising his hands in an ‘I surrender’ motion.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked warily.

“Look, just don’t rely on him, Gwen. There’s a lot about him you don’t know,” he advised before stopping them in front of the container he’d found the canister in earlier. “Fancy a peek?”

When she doesn’t say anything, he takes that as a yes to lean forward and pull open the doors.

“Ah ha!”

“Is that it?” she asked, peering in.

When she walked in, John knew that was his chance. When she picked up the canister, he surged forward and pushed her to the wall, kissing her soundly, making sure to rub his lips against hers to get the lip gloss on there.

“What are you doing? Get off me!” she growled, shoving him away where he only grinned.

“Celebrating, that’s all. God, the twenty-first century is so frigid,” he commented, watching as the paralysis began to take effect.

“What’ve you done?” she demanded weakly from the floor.

“No, don’t get up. I mean, you can’t anyway. Paralysing lip gloss. I think it might have even been John who taught me that trick,” he said casually, crouching down to pick up the canister. “Just one problem. If you’re not found in two hours, your major organs will go into shutdown,” he informed, walking to the door before turning around to finish speaking.

“Thanks. You gonna be okay in here without me?” He paused before his words turned dark, trying to make himself believe them, knowing truly they were just a fool’s hope. “He won’t stay with you, he and I shared something.”

He then shut the door and walked by it, tossing Gwen’s phone somewhere off in the distance, whistling a merry tune. Two more to go.

  
  
  


It really didn’t take long for him to find out where Tosh and Owen were, a quick scan with his VM and he was outside the warehouse they were in and strutting inside in moments.

“Job done,” he heard Owen remark.

“Good work, team,” John said cheerfully, coming up behind them in quick steps.

“Where’s Gwen?” Tosh demands, but before her or Owen could react he’s shoved Tosh aside, grabbing her gun and pointing it at her. He caught Owen about to come forward but shook the gun menacingly.

“Ah, ah, ah. Gun on the floor, or I shoot her,” he instructed, watching, pleased as Owen reluctantly did as told

“Jack, where are you?” Owen growled into his comm, and John just smirked.

“I muted the comm system as soon as we left the palace under the pavement. I love my little wrist strap. Now, phones.”

Owen scowled at him but dropped his phone on the floor and kicked it to John like his gun while Tosh silently did the same.

“You touch her again, I will kill you, okay?”

John simply shrugged before leaning over to pick up a piece of wood, adjusting his grip on it a little with an appreciative hum.

“The efficiency of a gun, or the brutality of wood?” he asked, walking toward Owen who was backing up.

“Yeah, look, stop toying with me and get on with it,” Owen snapped.

John just grinned and fired the gun.

  
  


Finding Jack and Ianto was almost too easy, and getting Eye candy’s attention by playing with the lift was just the icing on the cake. When Eye candy peered into the empty lift, he came up behind him and pressed his gun to the back of his head.

“Into the lift, Eye candy,” he ordered lowly, pressing it into his skull a little harder to get his point across.

When Ianto complied, he grabbed the man’s gun and tucked it in his waistband.

“Your friends are bleeding and dying and you barely have enough time to save them,” he murmured, knowing he was making Ianto uncomfortable with his closeness.

Ianto tapped his comm and muttered urgently, “Owen? Gwen?”

“What am I, a child? It’s a primitive bit of technology, easily blocked. You should be embarrassed. When you get to the bottom, run. You look like a man who enjoys a challenge. See if you can save them. Come back up here, I’ll shoot on sight,” he said, eyes narrowed dangerously, shoving Ianto further into the lift.

The lift doors began to close and say in a slightly cheerful tone, “Going down.”

“Going down. Yes please,” John parroted, backing up. 

Ianto surged forward, sneering at John and holding the lift doors open to get in his last words.

“Please stand clear of the doors,” was ignored.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded.

“We’re a cosmic joke, Eye candy. An accident of chemicals and evolution and those godforsaken  _ soulmate bonds.  _ The jokes, the sex, just cover the fact that nothing means anything. And the only consolation is  _ money,  _ because it’s all Jack’s bloody fault. So  _ run _ , Ianto Jones,” John growled.

“Going down. Doors closing.”

  
  
  


John decided to take the other lift up. He needed some time to think, even if it was only a few additional moments. 

Walking onto the roof to see Jack bent over, he couldn’t help but whistle and admire.

“Rear of the year, 5094. Still looking good,” he complimented, coming up to Jack who turned around with a frown.

Jack’s phone rings and John casually takes it out of Jack’s hand. 

“Cute boy, ringing you to warn me about you,” he said, smiling a little before his face dropped into a dangerous front. “Canister.”

“If you’ve harmed them in any way,” Jack threatened lowly.

“You know, they’re pretty. But stupid. You used to have better taste.”

“Doesn’t look like that from here,” Jack sneered. John had to stop himself from physically recoiling, surprised to feel a flash of anger in the back of his mind. Bugger. Jack was well and truly pissed.

“Just give it here,” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“Radiation cluster bombs? Really?” Jack snorted.

“Let’s not get hung up on the details,” John muttered.

“Little embarrassing that you needed help to find them,” Jack said, laughing a little which just stoked the embers fueling John’s resentment.

“A little humiliating you fell for the scam. Your dolly birds did all my work.”

“Is that what you wanted?” Jack asked, now sounding weary.

John decided to say it. He knew the chances of it actually working were zero, knew it’d make him look pathetic, but  _ dammit  _ he was tired. Tired of hiding the secret, of never being able to truly connect with anyone, with the feeling that he was  _ wrong.  _

“ What I want is for you to come to your senses. Join me, Jack. Back in the old routine we'd be emperors. How can you stay tied to one planet when there's thousands of worlds sparkling with wonder? We should be up there, among the stars, claiming them for our own. Just like before.” His desperateness right on display.

“I can’t,” Jack said quietly, sounding like he was actually apologetic. It just made John angrier and more desperate. For perhaps the first time since he’s known Jack, he seriously considered telling Jack about him being his soulmate.

John swallowed and decided he might as well ask first before he said anything. “Why not? Have you found your  _ soulmate?”  _ John seethed, voice filled with a contempt that’s been buried for  _ years.  _

He was glad to see that Jack was even surprised by the tone of his voice before his face softened, and John instantly knew. Something, his soul, maybe, cracked in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Then everything made sense, The aloofness, the way Ianto was always hovering, glaring at him, Jack constantly trying to deflect.

“It’s Ianto, isn’t it,” he said quietly, using Ianto’s real name for once, unable to summon the energy to say anything but.

Once again, Jack seemed surprised, but John was smarter than he acted and Jack should  _ know  _ that. “Yeah, so?”

John clenched his teeth painfully. His original reasoning was he couldn’t tell him to push Jack away, but now there was no point. He was claimed by another, John could hardly push him any further away. In fact, he may be able to garner some sympathy now. The most foolish part of his brain was whispering how Jack might reconsider their relationship. It was the part holding onto the anger, it was filling the crack in his soul, making him thrum with it.

He let out one slow breath, knowing Jack was watching him warily.  _ Good _ , he thought.

“You know what a nonreciprocal soulmate is, right?” he said suddenly, voice casual, hiding every emotion under it behind a very strong, very exhausting mask.

“Of course I do. What does that have to do-” and then Jack got it, eyes widening while looking up and down John’s stiffened form as if for the first time,

“No.. you couldn’t be…” he said weakly, shaking his head.

John just grinned sardonically and spread his arms wide. “Oh yes it can be!” he cried, a shaky laugh leaving him. His legs felt like they wouldn’t hold him up and his chest was far too tight and everything was spinning slightly before he remembered to  _ breathe.  _

“How long have you known?” Jack asked, sounding unsure of what exactly to say, of how to react.

John would be lying if he hadn’t imagined what might have happened if he told Jack. Most included Jack saying “Oh I love you!” and then they would shag themselves into oblivion. On his darker nights, he’d think about the more realistic ways he’d react, and this was almost exactly like one of them.

“Since the day we met.” His voice was low, slowly filling with pain.

“John…”

“Don’t give me your pity!” he snarled, taking a threatening step forward, making Jack take one back.

“How are you still alive?” he finally asked. John realized he was panting and forced himself to regulate his breathing.

“Out of spite, mostly,” he admitted. “And because I got to have a taste of you, even knowing it wouldn’t be forever. I’m still not sure if that made it easier or harder when you left.”

Jack was silent. “You know.. God I can’t believe I have to say this, but. You  _ know  _ we can’t get back together, right? I have Ianto now. We wouldn’t.. We wouldn’t  _ work.  _ Surely you’ll understand,” Jack said, practically begging John to understand.

John saw how close Jack was to the edge of the roof. His eyes turned dangerous and he smiled slowly. “Oh I understand  _ perfectly _ ,” he said softly. Before Jack knew what was happening, John had shoved Jack off the building and had snatched the canister from his flailing hands.

He turned away from the ledge, a hop in his step and began to walk back, to go to the Hub where he knew the last piece was when he felt it. The bond snapped and he was on the ground, coming to a few moments later with horror building inside him.

_ No.. He couldn’t….  _ John quickly ran back to the edge and peered over, seeing Jack’s dead body made his last meal come up and he threw up on the pavement beside him. He was shivering all over and realized he was in shock.

_ He can die and come back.  _ John dropped the canister. Bugger the Arcadian diamond, he needed to  _ leave.  _

He inputted the Hub’s coordinates with shaky fingers and disappeared, unable to stay there. Even knowing Jack could come back  _ now,  _ didn’t mean he did when he pushed Jack. John had made a lot of mistakes in his life, but killing his soulmate permanently would have been the worst one. He was barely able to think about it while knowing he would come back, because now he knew what those blackouts were. He refused to think about if this was the one time he wouldn’t come back, or how if Jack were mortal and he’d pushed him. 

When John landed in the Hub, he crashed to the ground and nearly threw up again but managed to keep his stomach contents were they belonged.

He scoured the Hub for a few minutes before finding them in the conference room. Most of the stuff was replaceable, but he was fond of the sword and his blasters. He shoved as much as he could into his pockets, but buckled his blaster belt and his sword sheath. His vision was so tunneled and he was so focused he didn’t notice anyone coming in until a gun was placed to the back of his head. He froze.

“How do you like it?” Ianto growled. John couldn’t reply, still in the middle of a breakdown. Everything in his life had been uplifted, he was more on the edge of ending it all than he had been in years. All the repressing over the years had come back. What he really wanted to do was go to one of his flats and curl up in a corner of the room and cry and cry and  _ drink.  _ Perhaps to death, he hadn’t decided yet.

“Down, Ianto,” came Jack’s voice, sounding far too smug for how fast John’s mind was racing.

The barrel at his head disappeared, but he knew it was reluctant.

He swallowed, unsurprised to find his body still shaking. “Jack, I’d like to leave now, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said carefully, trying to keep the panic and the tremor out of his tone. 

He knew he failed when he was spun around, face-to-chest with Jack. The energy it took to keep his breath regulated was starting to fail and they were coming hard and fast again. 

“John what the hell?” Jack muttered. John noticed how Jack was blocking him from everyone else in the room, his voice low enough to where they wouldn’t hear it.

“I didn’t- I didn’t know  _ that  _ would happen and yet I still did it and  _ how  _ can you do that? I’ve been feeling it for years and was never able to find out what it was. God I just want to  _ go  _ why won’t you just let me leave,” John rambled, thoughts skittering all over the place. What he desperately wanted was to cry out the years of heartbreak he’d been refusing to accept.

“What were the canisters really for?” Jack said instead.

“An Arcadian diamond, but I don’t  _ care  _ anymore,” he murmured, voice desperate.

“I was turned immortal by accident. Can die, but I won’t stay dead. And no, I don’t know how it happened. How did you figure it out so quick?”

John chose to ignore how Jack waved and the rest of the team slowly filed out.

“Even a one-sided bond can feel the death of their soulmate. I just didn’t know it was that with how often it happened,” he said darkly. He decided to leave out the part where he could feel the strong emotions from Jack. He assumed all the happy ones lately had to be attributed to Ianto, which made him die a little inside.

“What.. what happens each time?”

“I blackout for a few seconds. Now can I  _ please  _ go. I cannot stay here any longer without killing someone or myself, and I don’t think Eye candy would like cleaning blood off the walls,” John snapped, itching to go.

Jack regarded him for a few anxiety filled moments before pulling John into a tight hug. John melted into it instantly, finding his eyes stinging and knew he had to leave soon or else he’d be sobbing all over that nice great coat, and wouldn’t that be just dreadful.

John held on to Jack as tightly as he could, knowing this was probably his last chance at true happiness. He knew non-soulmate couples happened, and that was certainly true for John with shagging, he didn’t know if he could commit to someone. 

When Jack started pulling away, John reached behind Jack’s head and crashed their mouths together for one last, searing kiss. This time, he pulled away.

John started programming his VM and Jack didn’t object, so he didn’t stop. 

“I’d get that last canister off the roof. The other two are in the main area somewhere. Put them somewhere safe,” he murmured, finishing and looking up at a sad Jack. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said evenly.

John let out a weak laugh. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure it was a con, now that I think about it.”

Jack chuckled quietly but didn’t reply. John took a deep breath. “Apologize to your team for me, yeah? I’ve had a rough.. Decade or so.”

“I will, but if you come back and try something like this again, I won’t let you off so easily.”

John found it laughable how Jack could think this was letting him off  _ easy,  _ but didn’t say anything.

He gave Jack one more kiss on the cheek before pressing the button, but he chose the slow dissolve this time, not wanting to lose Jack again. Prolonging the inevitable.

He was nearly gone when an old search suddenly came to his mind and it all clicked, the old parts that didn’t make sense so many years ago.

“Hey Jack?” he called, making Jack turn back around. “I think I found Gray,” he said with a half-watt trademark smirk before disappearing.

  
  
  


John’s previous assessments were right. He grabbed several bottles of Hypervodka and drank himself asleep for a month or so while crying all the while. After that month, physically he felt like shit, but mentally he was better. 

He began his search for Gray again, with a target in mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know it was nearly a word for word rewrite of KKBB I'm sorry. And I also know I very blatantly set it up for a sequel. Dunno if I'll do it! But the option's there. 
> 
> This one is also dedicated to my European friend, whom I finished this in spite of so I could send her the link and she would wake up to it. Don't ask me why it's out of spite I Will Not Explain.
> 
> Break the pattern of most John fics! If you've gotten this far, leave a kudos! If there's something that caught your attention, maybe leave a comment. Anyway hope you enjoyed, hope you continue to enjoy things.


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